


A Sweater too Ugly

by rainysea



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, War Veteran Bucky Barnes, yarn shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainysea/pseuds/rainysea
Summary: Bucky works at his family's yarn shop.Clint wants to knit a sweater.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	A Sweater too Ugly

**Author's Note:**

> Does it count as 'posting by Christmas' if it's on Christmas? I'm gonna say yes.

For a one armed man, Bucky knew way too much about knitting. He could see the hesitation on customer’s faces when they glanced doubtfully where his arm had been and they tentatively asked after a certain type of yarn or related supply, or pattern. He would always try not to sigh too hard at their surprise when he actually knew what they were talking about, as if they didn’t have the right shop. At least that was better when they came in and needed something, eyeing him like he didn’t know where he was.

Hey, he had gotten better, okay? His hair was washed more often than not these days, and he hadn’t disassociated in weeks. And that had never been in the shop anyway. No, his nights were just plagued with nightmares, ma'am, that’s what those dark circles under his eyes were about. No he wasn’t a crazed addict that had decided customer service at a yarn shop was for him. They also sold other stuff, clothes his mother and sisters had made displayed in the windows, as well as some designers they contracted with.

So what if Bucky actually didn’t knit himself, didn’t even when he had two arms, although he knew the basics well enough. If came as second hand knowledge when your mother and sisters interest in knitting went from casual to downright obsessive. He would’ve given them a hard time about it when he came back, except he’d been a bit preoccupied by his lack of arm. He’d only been gone two years, and in that time they were well on their way to creating a knitting empire. His youngest sister Lis was making noises about opening a second shop where she lived two suburbs away. How’s it stealing customers if they own both stores? That had sent Becca off on a rant about monopolies, but Becca was only a silent partner or something since she was a nurse most of the time, so she didn’t get input on the possible second store.

Bucky shifted on the stool he was sitting on. It was rather uncomfortable, but had sentimental value according to his other sister Margret, even after only owning it a couple months, so here it was. Bucky was only here because he ‘had nothing better to do’, which was a nice way to put it. He’d grumbled, but recognized he wasn’t well enough to keep an actual steady job after an aborted attempt at house painting. It had gave him a headache anyway; he’d find something soon now that he wasn’t spacing out in the middle of a sidewalk on a Tuesday.

“Are you sure?” A woman was saying.

“Ethical product sourcing is something important to us,” Bucky replied. That was putting it mildly; he’d had to endure three different versions of Becca’s rants. “That particular yarn is from an alpaca keeper in Pennsylvania.”

“You’ve been there then?”

“Our product sourcing has-“ Bucky started because it had been Lis who’d come back raving over some llamas a couple weeks ago. “And yes I have,” he lied when the look on her face looked like she might argue if it was anything less than yes.

“Oh.”

“They spit on me,” he deadpanned.

There was a snort from behind a rack of blue yarn and he caught a smirk from a man that had come in when this woman had been playing twenty questions with Bucky. This was mildly better than the woman from the other day and told him to buck up because he looked like grumpy cat. Having nothing better to do than hang around hospitals and home made him a meme master. He’d been thoroughly unimpressed and told her seven other memes he was better compared to than grumpy cat. Seriously, don’t test him, he’s hung out in some dark corners of reddit.

The woman only looked slightly less doubtful when she walked away with her purchase, which was an improvement he guessed.

“If she was so concerned, she should start her own farm,” came from somewhere to his left. Bucky started; the man was at the opposite side of the shop where he’d been and- no, no, no one was out to get him here. The man was holding vaguely Christmas themed yarn and hey now, those were some blue eyes.

Bucky turned his full attention to the man who absolutely didn’t look like he belonged in a yarn shop, but Bucky couldn’t say that without being a hypocrite. “Hey, some of the people that come here actually have, they’re that into it.”

“Uh, really?” He tilted his head and glanced where the woman had disappeared. “Well, I can understand being obsessive about hobbies I guess.”

“Sure. What’re you making?”

“Huh?”

Bucky gave a vague gesture at the green yarn he was holding.

“Oh, uh, a sweater,” he put the yarn back and three others fell off the rack. “That’s the goal anyway.” He went to pick them up, bumped into a table and sent four of the snowman themed display rolling off the other way. “Uh…”

“Don’t worry about it. Beginner?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s obvious I guess.” That was putting it lightly.

“We have holiday sweater kits,” Bucky said. Some vague part of him was hung up on the red dusting his cheeks. Really, freckles never looked so good. “Ugly and not so ugly.” Bucky gestured at a different stand near the door.

“Oh! Great, I dunno how I missed that…” He went over. “Uh, you recommend anything for a beginner?”

It wasn’t often such a hot guy that wasn’t an outwardly pretentious hipster came in. Bucky’s flirting skills… Well, that wasn’t really something he’d thought about since getting blown up, really. There was no harm in trying here though, right? They were in a yarn shop.

Bucky came up next to him and damn, he must’ve been taller than Steve. “The snowman’s popular.”

The guy picked it up. “There’s uh, no needles? I need those right?”

Bucky squinted at him. “What’ve you made before?” The guy shifted a little. “You haven’t made anything before, have you?”

“A scarf,” the man said, practically over Bucky’s words and Bucky blinked at the volume of them. “I borrowed stuff from my friend, actually, I’m in a bet with her.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, ugly sweater competition or something.” He winced. “I think it’ll be more ‘something’ though.”

Bucky chuckled. “Gotta start somewhere.”

“Have you made any of these?”

Bucky gave him an incredulous look, because it was fucking obvious he hadn’t. “No?”

The man seemed to deflate. “Of course you make more complicated things, right, you work at a yarn shop. I bet the stuff you make is awesome,” he spilled out with a sort of awe Bucky had rarely ever had in his direction.

Bucky just sort of gaped at him.

The man waved the snowman pack at him. “I’ll try this I guess,” and they walked back to the register for Bucky to ring him up. “Damn my competitive streak,” he muttered, swiping his card.

“Nothing wrong with that,” Bucky said and was grateful his sisters weren’t here to vehemently disagree with him. They’d long since refused to play anything with him, except Becca, after that one time he’d made Lis cry.

They stared at each other a minute. “Well, I guess... I’ll come back if I have questions?” he scratched the back of his head. Bucky totally didn’t think it was adorable.

“We’ll be here.”

A week later had Bucky spacing out on the stool. Today had been a struggle so far, but he’d been trying to tell himself it was okay. He hadn’t got snippy with any customers, so he was managing. Barely. It was a wonder they let him work here at all, even after that yelp review complained about him.

He looked up at the sound of the door and in walked the man that Bucky had spent the past week shoving to the back of his mind, on the basis that he’d never see him again. So much for that. All his failed attempts at flirting dating back to middle school and right on through to that sergeant from another unit he’d practically thrown himself after downing an ungodly amount of cheap whiskey flashed before his eyes. “Uh, hey. Sweater, right?” He sounded casual, right? Probably not.

“Uh, yeah,” the guy was holding the bag that held his purchases and set it on the counter, and pulled out a giant knot of yarn.

Bucky poked at it. “Well, you started okay. Kinda.” That much was true. “You know there are instructions, right?”

The man deflated. “Nat helped with that.” He shuffled a little and looked up at Bucky with something that was suspiciously like hope. “Can you help? Just untangle it, and maybe show me a little?”

“Uhhhh,” because no, Bucky couldn’t. The man didn’t seem to be mocking him; he looked ridiculously earnest. He cleared his throat. “I can’t actually knit, I only know the basics.”

“Well, that’s more than me.”

“It isn’t actually,” great, he was going to have to say it, wasn’t he? “One arm and all.” He shook his stump a little, the empty sleeve swaying with it. He rarely bothered to tie it up. His hair was washed, what more did you want from him?

“Oh!” The man blinked rapidly, taking in his arm, and hey, he hadn’t really noticed, had he?

“I mean, I’m sure there are one armed people out there that have figured out ways that work for them, but I’m not that motivated. It’s my family’s shop, I just help out.” Never mind it was the other way around, no one was here to tell otherwise.

“So, you can’t help I guess?”

“Not me, but my sis-“

“Help with what?” Steve said from behind Bucky. Bucky barely refrained from jumping. He’d come out from the back, having taken the shortcut from his work. He was always too quiet about it and completely unmoved at the glare Bucky sent him.

“He’s managed to mangle his snowman sweater,” Bucky deadpanned, completely forgetting to be a polite store clerk.

“Heh, yeah,” the man scratched the back of his neck and that wasn’t cute at all, nope. He gestured at his sad project.

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve said and picked it up, and yeah, Steve could probably totally help the guy. Bucky tried not to be jealous of someone having a skill he didn’t even want, because next to Steve Bucky could be mistaken as a homeless person trying to pick Steve’s pocket. Steve winced. “Well, it’ll take some work. I’ve got some time though, if you do,” he gestured at a large table that the knitting groups often used. No one had said anything to Bucky, but he was always at work when there was no scheduled groups.

“Clint!” the man suddenly burst out loud enough to make both Bucky and Steve lean back. “That’s me, I mean, I’m Clint.” He stuck out his hand toward Bucky after a moment, unsure.

“Bucky,” Bucky said.

“Bucky,” Clint breathed out and stared.

“Steve,” Steve finally broke in when Bucky’s eyes started to water.

Clint quickly let go of Bucky’s hand and shook Steve’s. “Right. Steve. And Bucky.” Another glance at Bucky.

“We’ll have more room at the table,” Steve said when Clint just stood there.

“Right!” Clint shifted focus. “I’ve got a contest to win.”

Steve’s face said he didn’t think that likely, but Steve also ate kale salad, so whatever.

Clint turned out to be really, really bad at knitting. Steve said it was because he was distracted by Bucky, but how could anyone be distracted from Bucky when Steve was right there?

Steve had agreed meet him a couple times this month before the deadline Clint had with his friend, Kate. They met when Bucky was on shift, after Steve got off work. Clint showed up before Steve got there, and this last time had brought coffee for the three of them. They drank theirs while they waited for Steve.

This time he had a case with him that he set next to the counter. “What’s that?” Bucky eyed the case. No, it wasn’t a rifle, that was ridiculous.

“Oh! My bow,” Clint grinned. “Archer?” Clint prompted when Bucky had stopped his coffee halfway to his mouth.

Bucky put the cup down. “I thought you were joking.”

“Nope! You should come by the range sometime! Then I can show you something I’m actually good at,” he grinned, so bright the perpetual clouds hanging around Bucky’s head left for the day.

The next time Clint came was the last time before the deadline. He finished with Steve’s help at the shop.

“You actually done?” Bucky said skeptically when Clint had proclaimed so. “Well, let’s see then.”

Clint shrugged out of hoodie and damn those were some biceps. He put the sweater on. Or tried to anyway, it took Steve a good minute to figure out the mess of knots and yank in down in what was supposed to be the proper way. Steve stepped back and Clint threw out his arms, grinning. “Well?”

“Well?” Bucky asked incredulously. “That is the ugliest fucking sweater I’ve ever seen. Some of those colors weren’t even in the kit. I thought you were buying them for other projects.”

“Nope! I kept running out of yarn.”

“I don’t know how, he should’ve had all the yarn he needed plus extra,” Steve said.

Bucky and Steve stood and took it in some more before they all started laughing. It took them a good ten minutes to recover.

Clint gathered up his stuff, yanking his hoodie on over the sweater.

“You’re actually wearing that?” Bucky asked.

“It can’t be comfortable,” Steve chuckled out.

“I’m gonna go meet up with Katie-Kate, she finished hers this morning. We’ll see who’s victorious,” he said as he shouldered the door open. It slammed shut behind him and they watched him practically skip down the street.

“You won’t be meeting up with him anymore I guess,” Bucky suddenly realized with the sweater done Clint had no reason to come in regularly.

Steve snorted. “He’ll be back. Buck, the sweater is not the reason he keeps coming here,” he gave Bucky a pointed look.

Bucky’s scowl did nothing to hide the blush, and Steve just hmmmed at him on his way out.

“Who’s Clint?” Becca said as he came in the door. He had his own place now, but they all had dinner at least once a week. Someone went into a snit if they didn’t.

He stopped short in the doorway to the living room, all his family present and looking at him expectantly. “How do you know Clint?” He tried.

“He came in Thursday looking for you, wearing the saddest version of that snowman sweater I’ve ever seen,” Lis said. “I told him your next shift was on Tuesday.” She smirked at him. “Or should I just have given him your number?”

“You should invite him over for dinner,” his mom said, coming in the room. “That boy was adorable. I should know my future son-in-law better,” she teased.

Bucky didn’t bother to respond to any of this, and just gave them a withering look. “Do you need any help with dinner, ma?”

Bucky was a little annoyed at himself for looking forward to Tuesday, but whatever. Tuesday came, and with it came a truly ridiculous amount of people for a yarn shop and somehow he’d completely forgotten it was two days before Christmas when they’d given him this shift.

Clint didn’t come.

Bucky tried not to be disappointed as he went to the back for the broom. It didn’t seem like there’d be any more people and it was already fifteen minutes after closing.

He went back out and Clint was at the door, looking uncertain, but his face lit up when he saw Bucky. “Hey! I tried stopping by earlier, but you were swamped.”

Bucky grinned back at him. “Yeah. Lots of questions about yarn quality,” he rolled his eyes.

“And I would’ve called, but I realized I didn’t actually have your number? I have Steve’s but I would’ve felt weird asking him.” He shifted and looked at Bucky. “And, uh, meet up for a movie or something?”

So they were on the same page. Good. Great even. It’s a good thing Clint asked, because it would’ve taken Bucky way too long to work up the nerve to ask himself.

“Like a date,” Clint added when Bucky didn’t say anything.

“That sounds great.”

Bucky didn’t realize Clint had been so nervous until he saw the relief drain it away from his smile. “Great!” He dug out his phone and handed it to Bucky for his number, who typed it in.

He lingered. “Uh, I’m sorry to keep you-“

“It’s fine Clint,” Bucky said. He glanced at the clock. “If you wanted, we could go for a beer or something? Now?”

Clint beamed at him.

Bucky got his coat and locked up the shop, but stood in the doorway. Clint glanced back when Bucky didn’t follow. Bucky looked up and Clint followed his gaze to the mistletoe in the doorway.

“Really?” Clint said, slowly moving back into his space.

Bucky leaned up and hell the man was tall. Their lips met in a soft kiss. And again in a more purposeful one, before mutually moving to head down the street.

“So what do you owe Kate?”

“Huh?”

“She won right?”

“No, I did.”

Bucky stopped short. “You did not.”

“It was an ugly sweater competition Buck, and mine was by far, the ugliest.” He grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
